TW: Suicide, murder, drug use, swearing, depression, violence, existential themes, mental-health issues, attempted suicide

NIGHT FIVE

We had searched for Camilla all day and night, praying we weren’t too late.

I guess the prayers never reached anyone because I found her body.

She had a note.

Said she couldn’t go on after everyone died. Couldn’t live with the grief.

I hated that I could see what she meant. Hated that I envied her for having the “strength” to do it.

What was worse?

I didn’t feel anything.

Just this heavy, dead numbness settling over me like a blanket, like I was watching my life through glass. Unable to do or feel anything.

In second-gear.